Existence

"If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live. " - Martin Luther King, Jr.

So, last night, through the haze of sleeping pills and total exhaustion, I power out a post about how unfair it is to share your soul with others, as your emotions may impact theirs and perhaps that's not really a fair thing to do to another. I fall asleep thinking of this and make a decision to withhold more information from people, as a favor to them.

And then yesterday, one single event completely changed my perspective.

I'm used to foreshadowing in movies, I'm used to foreshadowing in books, but when it happens in your life, and you actually realize it, it's a very bizarre feeling. As I'm walking in the front door, I see a doctor duck into the hall to make a phone call. I'm quite far away from him, but I hear the conversation vividly: "Honey, it's Dad. There's a bad wreck near our house. I don't think you'll be able to leave the way you normally do, so take an alternate route in, or just wait a while."

Once inside the OR, everyone is talking about this wreck, except me. I've got yet another monster big case with the potential to go really bad. The anesthesiologist and I get the patient in the room to get started. We are wondering where one of the techs is, it's unusual that he's not in the room helping us. Another coworker comes in and asks where he is and we sort of start to make fun of him, joking about how he never misses this sort of thing and how he's usually in our way in a big way, "helping".

My boss begins calling him, leaving horrible messages asking where he is. Then, the pieces begin falling into place. His wife calls looking for him. News reports say that the vehicle in the accident was a rental car, and he was in a rental car. His BMW been broken in to at the hospital a couple days prior, he was in a Cobalt which surely contributed to the accident - you're used to driving a car that handles like a dream, and suddenly find yourself in an unfamiliar rollerskate on wet roads. My other boss decides to drive to the scene to see if it's him. Shortly after, we receive confirmation - our coworker was the only victim in the accident, and it was a brutal and awful accident.

I'm not going to pretend that his death was personally devestating. I barely knew the man. He had only been working with us for a couple of months, and our conversations were still in the realm of the superficial. I had never even asked about his family, his hobbies or his interests. Of course, I feel badly for him and realize that his life was snatched from him very prematurely. I am concerned about the well-being of those that loved him and relied on him - but I don't even know who they are.

What his death does prove to me personally, however, is that I was wrong when I wrote yesterday's post. It is not only acceptable to share your thoughts and feeling with others, it's mandatory.

Yes, your words do have an impact, and yes, your words may alter lives irrevocably. But, as long as it's coming from an honest and true perspective with honest and true intentions, you should share your thoughts with others - because you might not have the opportunity again.

You have to live with intention, you have to define your life for yourself and on your own terms and you have to love with passion - every single day. I don't want to sound all macabre, and I certainly don't feel morose today - I feel renewed and reenergized - but we are only promised the present.

With that, my promise is to be as open and honest with you as I would like you to be with me. Yes, in the past I've felt burdened by the confessions of others and I've worried that my own confessions may cause a similar burden to be felt by others. But that's a mistaken approach and an error in my thinking. We cannot live in fear of our feelings, desires or intentions: it's all we are and all we have.